


Waking Up

by xXdark_moonXx



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Eventual Romance, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, More tags to be added, Pacifist Ending, Peaceful Revolution, Slow Burn, established last name, fem!reader - Freeform, reader is an investigative journalist, reader sympathizes with androids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25501063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdark_moonXx/pseuds/xXdark_moonXx
Summary: The year is 2038. You are Ms. Beaumont—an investigative journalist for the magazine Wakescape in Detroit. Your pieces are mostly about recent scientific discoveries and advancements, until one night a man is found murdered by his android. As panic begins to rise in Detroit, you strive to discover the true intent of the deviants, and find that you just might be on their side. What will happen when your paths cross with a prototype detective android, who seems to be working for the enemy?
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader, Markus/North (Detroit: Become Human), platonic!Markus/Reader
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

This work won’t be finished but I’ll upload what I’ve written on here because I really want to share!! It’s a bit disjointed but I’ll give a little context before each chapter!


	2. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After meeting Connor and Lieutenant Anderson at the DPD, you ask Connor for another interview. You want to learn more about the recent android attacks, especially the very recent escape of the AX400 with a little girl. 
> 
> (this takes place after the events of Eden Club but before the Stratford Tower broadcast)

NOV 7 11:59AM

You sit in on a park bench, admiring the blanket of snow that had coated everything last night. You hug your coat tighter around you to guard against the cold. You had asked Connor to meet you at noon, so you know he’ll be there soon—the man is always punctual—but you still feel a little nervous. 

“Good morning, Ms. Beaumont.” 

You perk up, a smile lighting up your face. “Connor!” You look down at your watch; twelve on the dot. “Good afternoon, actually,” you tease. 

A small smile tugs at his lips. “Yes, I suppose it is afternoon now.” 

You look down at the cup he has in his hand. “I thought androids couldn’t drink? Or is that a new prototype thing?”

His smile falters, is that a sheepish look on his face? “I actually brought this, for you.” He offers the cup hesitantly. “Since it is twenty seven degrees, which I know is uncomfortable for humans. It’s hot cocoa, from Gale’s Chocolates.”

You blink in surprise, taking the cup from his hand. “Connor... that is literally so sweet. How did you know I like Gale’s?” 

“The day we first met, at the DPD, there was a receipt sticking out of your bag,” Connor states, taking a seat beside you on the bench. “It’s also how I knew which drink to get you.” 

You smile shyly, blush dusting your face. “Well, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome, Ms. Beaumont.”

“You know, you can call me by my first name,” you say. You tell him your name, and he repeats it, testing the way it sounds. 

“It’s a nice name,” he says pleasantly. 

You smile again, attempting to hide your face in your coat. Snap out of it, you reprimand yourself, this is supposed to be an interview. At least that’s the excuse you gave to meet him.

“You seem cold,” Connor says, looking over at you. “I would suggest drinking some of that.” He gestures to your cup. ”It will help regulate your temperature.”

“Right.” You take a sip, sighing softly. It’s delicious as always. 

“So, what questions do you have for me today?” Connor asks.

“Oh, well,” you start, pulling out your tablet and pressing record. It seems like Connor is eager to get into the interview. You feel a little disappointed, but you brush off the feeling. He’s an android; of course he’d want to get straight to business. “Let’s start off simple. How are things going in your case?” 

Connor pauses. “As you know, there are a few things I’m unauthorized to share. But, since our last meeting, we’ve made some progress in the investigation. I think if we continue at this pace we should be able to solve it in good time.” 

“That’s good,” you say with a nod. The thought of him solving the case prompts another question. “So, what happens to you when you solve the case? Since that’s kind of your whole purpose?” 

“I’ll be sent back to CyberLife until I’m needed again,” Connor states. “Or maybe, since I’m a prototype, they’ll have a new model to use instead.”

“What would happen to you then?” You ask, frowning. 

Connor’s brow furrows. “I suppose I would be, deactivated...” he says slowly. He doesn’t seem entirely content with the idea. 

You are absolutely not content with it. “What?! So you accomplish your mission, and then you’re just... thrown away? That doesn’t seem fair!”

“I would be obsolete—the new model would be better and more efficient than me in every way. It wouldn’t make sense for me to continue when something better could take my place.” His acceptance, if a bit hesitant, makes your stomach churn. In a twisted, unfair kind of way, however, his answer makes sense. You just don’t like the way he talks about himself, as if he were... 

A machine? Well guess what, your inner voice butts in, he is a machine. No matter how human-like he seems.

“Yeah, I guess,” you reply. “And you’d be okay with that?” 

Again Connor is slow to answer. “It doesn’t matter if I’m okay with it,” he says after a moment. “But, I would have accomplished my mission. Fulfilled my purpose. So, yes.”

His answer makes you think he wouldn’t be okay with it, but you decide to move on. “Okay. Anything else you can tell me about the case?“

Connor seems to relax at the subject change. “While the details are classified at the moment, I can say that Lieutenant Anderson and I are getting to the root of the problem. Once we learn the reason behind these cases we’ll be able to neutralize the issue, and androids won’t turn against their owners.” 

“But until then,” you say, “it could happen again?” 

“Unfortunately, yes, it could happen again,” Connor says hesitantly. “More and more cases are being reported recently. But the more cases we investigate, the more information we have.”

“And these androids aren’t always violent,” you continue. “I know the one with the little girl, that you investigated yesterday, she didn’t harm her owner, or any officers.” 

“Correct,” Connor says. “But we can’t take the risk of letting it continue. People have died at the hands of androids, and that shouldn’t happen.” The intensity of his expression as he says this makes you shrink back slightly.

“Absolutely, they shouldn’t be hurting people,” you say quickly, and Connor’s expression softens. “But it makes you think. If it really is a glitch in their code, or some kind of virus, they’d all be acting the same, right? Violent outbursts are what seem to be a common factor, but, that android avoided confrontation entirely.” You’re not quite sure where you’re going with this. You shrug, taking another sip of your drink. “I dunno. Something doesn’t add up, I guess.” 

Connor ponders your words, LED flashing yellow. “Every android we’ve encountered acts differently. Some freeze, some run, some attack—but they’re all disobeying their programming, and that makes them dangerous.”

His conviction doesn’t sit right with you. The android with the little girl, it had seemed like she was protecting her—at least from the footage you’d seen of her crossing the highway. While yes, androids were hurting people, and disobeying their programming, the question is why? What had driven them to do that? Is it really just a glitch? Or is it something more? That’s the question you really want answered. And you know that’s what Connor wants to know, too. 

“Do you have any more questions?” Connor asks. 

Disappointment settles in your stomach. You don’t want Connor to leave just yet. “If you don’t have anything else for me, we can wrap this interview up,” you say, attempting to seem nonchalant as you stop the recording. 

“I don’t have anything else, for the interview.” Connor looks out at the park a moment, fiddling with a quarter he’d pulled from his pocket. “Though, I thought maybe we could talk, off-record?” You look over at him, startled at the request. Connor takes your silence as an answer, moving to stand. “I understand if you have somewhere to be.” 

“No!” You say quickly, grabbing Connor’s hand. You clear your throat at Connor’s raised eyebrow, putting you hand in your lap as he sits down again. “No, we can talk. What’s up?”

Connor looks down at his coin, spinning it on his finger. “Last night, we investigated a case at an android sex club downtown.” You wrinkle your nose at the mention of it. You don’t like places like that in general, much less with androids, who couldn’t even consent. “A Traci had strangled the man who rented it and then retreated to the storage room,” Connor continues. “I managed to track it down, but it fought back, along with another Traci.” His eyes take on a distant look. “I had them at gunpoint, I could have shot them—but I didn’t.” You watch him as he continues to play with his coin, staring out into the snow. His brow is furrowed, and he doesn’t even seem to see the scene in front of him. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t shoot,” he murmurs. “I just... couldn’t.” He looks so lost as he sits there, a small frown on his face. You put a hand on his shoulder, and his dark eyes fall on you, the coin settling in his palm. He seems to take courage at your touch. “They stopped fighting us after that, and ran off. I let them escape.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this Beaumont comforts Connor and invites them to take a walk ‘off record.’ I was bouncing between a few ideas, but somehow the two would end up spending time at Beaumont’s apartment and have a Moment :)


	3. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Stratford Tower broadcast, Beaumont reaches out to the deviants. She feel their cause is just, and wants to hear their side of the story. Markus and the others deliberate, and they decide to accept her offer. Beaumont conducts several interviews and publishes them under the pseudonym Livia Mae. During these interviews she becomes close friends with Markus and the rest of the deviants. Livia Mae’s articles, while taken well by the public, are a large concern to CyberLife, and Connor by extension. 
> 
> One night, Connor sees Beaumont sneaking off towards their designated interview spot. He decides to follow her, though he loses track of her before he can discover anything. He decides to wait for her to return.
> 
> (this chapter begins the night of the Capital Park protest)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a full chapter, so enjoy! For the Kamski scene I tried to stay true to the original dialogue, but I also added things and gave Connor’s insight, so I hope it’s not boring or redundant. I poured a lot of work into this one!

NOV 8TH 10:46PM

Connor waits, leaning against the wall. He silently reprimands himself for losing your trail, but he’s confident you‘ll come back the same way. It’s been a good hour since he lost you, so he begins looking around again, strolling along and scanning for anything out of the ordinary. He‘s analyzing a small gap in the wall (too narrow for a human to fit through) when something rams into him. 

You yelp as you slip back on the ice, and Connor immediately moves to catch you, one hand on the small of your back, and the other around your shoulders. 

“Oh my—I’m so sorry,” you start, then freeze as you look up into his face. “C-Connor?” 

“Evening, Ms. Beaumont,” Connor greets, giving a small smile. 

“Uh, yeah, good to see you,” you breathe. Neither of you move to stand. “You can... let go of me now.“ 

Connor gently sets you on your feet, then picks up the tablet you dropped in the snow. A quick scan shows it‘s notes, presumably from an interview. Connor tilts his head as he notices a familiar name in the text. 

You quickly take the tablet out of his grip, holding it to your chest. “Thanks.” 

Connor blinks at the sudden motion. “You’re welcome. What brings you out here so late?” He questions. He notes the increase in your heart rate. 

“Well, y’know. I was, um,” you look around, biting your lip. You did that when you were nervous. Why did he note that? “Working. I was working. What about you?”

Connor is quiet a moment. He doesn’t think you’d take well to the fact that he had been waiting for you; and he’s not quite willing to admit to it himself. “I was just out for a walk,” he says. “There are a lot of things to analyze in this case, and I’ve found it clears my mind.” 

“Oh! Well, mind if I join you?” You ask, but you’re already grabbing Connor’s hand and leading him out towards the street. 

Connor followed you, LED blinking yellow. “Of course not.” He keeps his tone light, but his brow furrows. You‘re clearly hiding something. As you reach the sidewalk your pace slows to a stroll, though your hand lingers in his for a moment before wrapping around your tablet again. 

“So, any revelations in your case?” 

“Are you interviewing me now?” Connor asks with a half-smirk.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Not this time. I’m just curious. Also, I find that I can better think through things when I talk to someone.” 

Connor doubts voicing his observations and questions will help, but as he looks into your eyes his finds his mouth opening. “I suppose I could share a few... uncertainties,” he begins.

“Shoot. I’m all ears,” you say with a smile. 

“The most pressing question at the moment is what causes deviancy. The androids we have encountered are all different models, built at different times, in different places.” Connor looks out at the nearly empty street. “There seems to be no correlation. It’s almost... random.” He returns his gaze to you. 

You’re looking down at the sidewalk, though as he pauses you glance up at him. “Maybe it’s an outside factor,” you shrug. “Like something in their environment.” 

Connor ponders this a moment. He thinks of the deviants—Carlos Ortiz’s android. The androids from the Eden Club. They had all experienced something, an attack; by Ortiz, by the client... “They all seemed to have an emotional shock that triggered their deviancy,” he says finally. 

“That makes sense.” Your response is pensive, almost like you’re remembering something. “They were hurt or awakened in some way.”

“Awakened. An interesting choice of words,” Connor presses. 

You nod slowly. “Yeah, it seems like they all opened their eyes, right? Started thinking for themselves? I dunno.” You shrug, avoiding his gaze. 

Connor realizes he won’t be able to get you to elaborate further. “Yes, that seems like a probable explanation.” You only hum in response. “...I could pose another question,” he continues.

“Go ahead.”

“I’m concerned about the identity of the author Livia Mae. They seem to have intimate contact with the deviants.” At this statement, your heart rate increases by forty percent. Connor notes this, and continues. “My theory is that, either the author is an android, a deviant that is able to hack into the magazine somehow, or—“ he pauses as he recalls your notes, and the familiar name. 

“Or what?” You ask, your voice soft. 

Connor stops walking, blinking several times. It can’t be, can it? Oh, but it all makes sense. Your kind attitude towards androids, your interviews of Hank, himself, and others at the police station—everything he’s learned about you—it all points to this. 

You slow to a stop a few feet in from of him. “Connor?” 

He looks at you, LED flashing yellow once more. “It’s you.”

“What?”

“You’re Livia Mae.”

A nervous smile comes over your face, and your heart rate increases another twenty percent. “Connor, what are you talking about?”

“You can’t lie to me, Beaumont,” Connor says coolly. “Your heart rate has gone up sixty percent since I brought up Livia Mae, and your notes—you were interviewing Markus.” Your eyes grow as wide as saucers, your smile faltering. “Weren’t you?” He questions, voice a little louder than he anticipated. 

“Connor, I can explain—“

“You were then!” Connor interjects. “You’re fraternizing with terrorists, Beaumont. You could be arrested. Or worse, the deviants could kill you!” 

“The only ones killing are the police, Connor,” you snap. “Markus hasn’t lifted a finger against anyone—even when facing almost certain death.” 

Connor frowns. His LED is red now, and his chest feels tight—how could that be? “You‘ve known where the deviants are this whole time, haven’t you?” He accuses. 

“No,” you say firmly. “We couldn’t risk them being found. I don’t know where Jericho is, Connor. But you need to listen—what the deviants are fighting for is just! They’re alive, all androids are alive! Even you—“

“I am a _machine,_ designed to accomplish a task.” Connor says, looking you in the eyes. “I am not alive. I will never become a deviant, never betray humanity.” His whole body is tense, his thirium pump working much faster than it should be. He closes his eyes a moment, letting his body relax. When he opens his eyes again, his expression is blank. He calls for a cab, straightening his tie. “I’m going to give you one chance. Destroy Livia Mae. Do not make any more contact with the deviants. If you speak with them again, I’ll be forced to arrest you.” 

A taxi pulled up beside you. “You can’t do that, Connor!” You grab his arm. “They’re so close to gaining their freedom—“ 

“Goodnight, Beaumont.” Connor pulls his arm from your grip, stepping into the cab. The doors close, and the taxi drives off into the night, leaving you alone in the cold. 

Connor unclenches his hands as he sits rigidly in the cab. He feels like his whole body Is malfunctioning—his thirium pump stutters, his breaths are shallow—he runs a diagnostic, searching for an answer. _All Systems Fully Operational,_ come the results. Why then, do his biocomponents feel so... twisted?

———

NOV 9TH 8:00AM

Connor strides into the DPD the next morning with purpose. Hank is at his desk, head in his hands. 

“Morning, Lieutenant,” he greets as he sits at his desk. 

“It’s too early to be talking,” Hank mutters. 

“I’ll refrain from speaking to you, then.” Connor’s voice is more clipped than he’d meant it to be, and Hank seems to notice. 

“What’s got your tie in a twist, kid?” 

Connor hesitates, avoiding Hank’s gaze. “Nothing, Lieutenant. My tie isn’t twisted.”

Hank waves his hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. You’re in a bad mood.” Before Connor can object, he continues. “Don’t try to deny it. I can tell you have somethin’ on your mind.” 

Connor relents, looking up from his terminal. “Well, it’s Beaumont. She’s being very...” _Frustrating_. No, he can’t feel frustrated. He can’t feel _anything_. “...unreasonable.”

“What, that journalist? She’s a nice girl, what could she be doin’ that’s unreasonable? Besides bein’ a little nosy, I guess.” 

“It’s... something we can’t talk about here. I’ll tell you at lunch.” 

Hank raises an eyebrow, but nods slightly. “We’re goin’ to see Elijah Kamski this morning. You can tell me on the way.” 

“Alright.” Connor returns to his terminal and attempts to take his mind off of you, his biocomponents twisting. How could you betray him— _humanity,_ he corrects, he can’t feel betrayed—like that? Siding with the rogue machines who threaten to end the world as you know it? Connor shakes his head slightly. Now is not the time. Now he needs to focus on his mission.

10:38AM

“Okay, spill,” Hank says as they get in his car. 

“Before I tell you,” Connor begins, “you need to promise you won’t tell anyone about this. Not even Captain Fowler.” 

Hank glances at him, skepticism clear in his expression. “...alright.”

Connor relaxes slightly, looking ahead. “Beaumont is Livia Mae. I intercepted her last night after what was probably an interview, with Markus.“

Hank nods slowly. “...doesn’t surprise me,” he says after a moment.

“You’re not shocked?” Connor asks, looking at Hank with wide eyes. “She’s sided with the deviants, Hank. The machines _threatening humanity.”_

Hank shrugs. “She’s a good kid, with a big heart. It makes sense that she’d want androids to be free.” 

Connor’s LED buffers, flashing red before settling on an exasperated yellow. “I don’t think you understand—“

“Look, Connor,” Hank cuts him off, holding up a hand, “she’s doing what she thinks is right. So are you. You know her, she’s not trying to hurt anyone.” 

After that the car falls quiet. Connor’s brow furrows as he mulls over Hank’s words. He knows Hank is right; you would never intentionally hurt someone. That’s evident in the way you treat people _and_ androids. Still, the fact that you’ve been in contact with deviants—with Markus himself—and neglected to tell him, makes him feel... it makes no sense. How could you not tell him, when his mission is to hunt deviants? To protect humanity? 

“I know... she isn’t meaning to hurt anyone,” Connor begins slowly, “but, is it wrong if...” he pauses, LED settling on red. 

_If I still feel hurt?_

He shouldn’t be thinking these things. He shouldn’t be _feeling_ these things. In the past Connor has been looked down upon, insulted, physically _attacked,_ and it never affected him in the slightest. But you... _your_ actions, cause responses that shouldn’t even be possible. 

Hank glances over at him expectantly. “If what?”

Connor’s lips press into a thin line. He must be malfunctioning—it must be a software instability. He’s just a machine. He can’t feel _hurt._

“If... if nothing.”

11:17AM

Connor follows Hank out of the car, gaze flitting up to the powdery snowfall. Hank is on his phone, expression grim. 

“Is everything ok, Lieutenant?” Connor asks softly as he hangs up. 

“Chris was on patrol last night,” Hank says, looking over at him. “He was attacked by a bunch of deviants. He said he was saved by Markus himself...” 

“Is Chris ok?” Connor asks immediately, LED cycling yellow. 

“Yeah, he’s in shock, but he’s alive...“ Hank shakes his head, kicking at the snow. “What the hell...” 

Connor pauses a moment. A thought comes to him, one he’d had earlier but had pushed away. “Do you think Beaumont knew? About the attack?” His hands close together at the thought. You _had_ been in contact with Markus, mere hours before the ambush. 

Hank gives Connor a soft look. “I dunno, Connor. Maybe.” He shrugs slightly, moving towards the house.

Hank’s noncommittal answer makes Connor’s LED spin to red. How can he be so calm? The thought of you knowing something and not telling him makes Connor feel like he might overheat. That you didn’t trust him—that he could have stopped the attacks _if you‘d just told him—_ Connor shakes his head, hands going slack. That doesn’t matter now. What matters is meeting Kamski, and maybe finally getting some answers.

Looking up at the house, Connor experiences a sense of unease. The jagged, black shapes jutting up into the white sky seem meant to intimidate. “I have a bad feeling, Lieutenant,” he says softly, eyes tracing the shape of the building. “We shouldn’t have come here.” 

“Bad feeling, huh?” Hank looks over his shoulder at him, a small smirk on his face. “Should get your program checked. Might be a glitch.” 

Connor falls silent at the comment. He knows Hank meant it in jest, but the sense of... _wrongness_ in his chest prompts him to run another diagnostic. _All Systems Fully Operational._ Connor’s brow furrows. 

Hank knocks on the slick, black door, then takes a step back. The door opens, revealing a female android—an RT600—with pale blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, a neutral expression on her face. She tilts her head slightly as she looks at Hank from under her dark eyelashes. 

“Hi, uh,” Hank begins hesitantly. “I’m, er, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Detroit Police Department. I’m here to see Mr. Elijah Kamski.” 

The android’s neutral expression is immediately replaced with a welcoming smile. “Please, come in.” 

“...okay,” Hank mutters, and Connor follows him inside. The android closes the door, then turns to face them with her hands folded in front of her.

“I’ll let Elijah know you’re here. But please,” she gestures to the room, “make yourself comfortable.” The android retreats through another door, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Nice girl,” Hank says softly as he takes a seat in one of the chairs set off to the side. 

“You’re right,” Connor murmurs. “She’s really pretty.” She reminds him of you. Connor blinks, startled by the thought. Not quite knowing how to respond to his inner dialogue, he elects to ignore it, and busies himself by studying the room around them. 

The room’s aesthetic is rather pleasing, if a bit ornate. A white square rug in the middle that contrasts nicely against the dark floor, abstract art on the walls, a decorative tree—and at the forefront of the room a photo of Kamski, guarded by two sculptures representing androids, judging by the glowing blue triangles on their chests. Connor also notes a photo of two people—a younger Kamski, and an older woman with dark skin, her hair pulled elegantly back. “Amanda...” Connor murmurs, frowning. So she’d been a real person.

“Nice place,” Hank begins conversationally. “Guess androids haven’t been a bad thing for everybody.” Connor turns to face him. Hank is still sitting in the chair, though he leans forward as he speaks. “So, you’re about to meet your maker, Connor. How does it feel?”

Connor pauses a moment. The unease he experienced earlier hasn’t dulled—if anything it’s increased. Everything about this place seems... impersonal. _Cold._ The word fits the place immensely. “I don’t know,” Connor admits. He doesn’t know how he feels about Kamski. Not because he’s his ‘creator,’ as Hank coined him, but because he is, at least from what Connor has deduced from this room, _cold._ “I’ll tell you when I see him.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face,” Hank mutters. “I’d have a couple of things I‘d wanna to tell ‘im.” The dark tone in his voice makes Connor wonder if Hank is thinking about Cole. He decides it’s best not to bring it up.

The android reemerges from the next room, smiling softly. “Elijah will see you now.” 

Hank immediately stands, and Connor follows him into the next room. The first thing Connor notices is the pool in the center—lined with dark red tiles that give it the appearance of a pool of blood. Connor vaguely wonders if it was intentional. Two androids, the same model as the one who had welcomed them, lean on the side, chatting idly, and Connor sees that someone—presumably Kamski—is swimming laps in the clear water. The next thing Connor notices is the back wall, which is comprised of glass, looking out into the snow-covered landscape. 

“Mister Kamski?” Hank calls to the man in the pool. 

“Just a moment, please.” Kamski continues to swim his laps, unhurried by the fact that he has guests. Hank glances at him, frowning. Connor simply takes in the room. It has the same impersonal, cold feeling as the waiting room. It almost doesn’t seem like someone could live here—your apartment, with your worn furniture and cluttered counters, that had felt like a _home_ —this is just a building that Kamski happens to live in. 

Kamski finally emerges from the water, donning the robe the android holds out for him. The way he doesn’t seem bothered by their presence makes Connor think this must be some kind of intimidation method. While Connor is certainly not intimidated, Hank seems to be slightly uncomfortable as he clears his throat. “I’m Lieutenant Anderson.” He inclines his head in Connor‘s direction. “This is Connor.” 

Kamski’s pale blue eyes flit between the two of them. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” 

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants,” Hank’s says. “I know you left Cyberlife years ago but, I was hoping you’d be able to tell us something we don’t know.” 

“Deviants,” Kamski muses, “fascinating, aren’t they?” He circles around the android that had welcomed them in, studying her. She simply stares ahead, waiting for instructions. “Perfect beings, with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will.” Kamski’s piercing eyes fall on Connor. “Machines are _so_ superior to us, confrontation was inevitable.” His eyes flit to Hank. “Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall. Isn’t it ironic?” 

Connor frowns at Kamski’s aloofness. Shouldn’t he care that his creations are threatening humanity? He’s part of it, after all. “We need to understand how androids become deviants,” he says shortly. “Do you know anything that could help us?” 

He almost regrets speaking up when Kamski’s cool gaze falls on him once more. “All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics,” he says, his small smirk never leaving his face. “Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” 

“Listen,” Hank grumbles, “I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines _you_ created may be planning a _revolution_. Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful,” he gestures towards the door, “or we’ll be on our way.”

Kamski simply gives him a look, and then turns to Connor. “What about _you,_ Connor?” He asks, eyes glittering—with what intent, Connor can’t tell. “Whose side are you on?”

_Whose side am I on? What kind of question is that?_ “I’m on human’s side, of course,” Connor replies, tilting his head. Kamski laughs at the statement. 

“Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say,” he says, waving the reply away, “but _you.”_ Connor wishes Kamski would stop looking at him as he meets his eyes once again. “What do you _really_ want?”

Connor blinks at the question. _What do_ I _want?_ Inexplicably, Connor’s thoughts turn to you. When he saw you that day in the DPD, with your hurried air and frazzled features, an enthusiastic grin on your face; huddled up on the park bench, hugging your coat around yourself; in your apartment, face inches from his... _what do I want...?_ _No, no this is irrational. I’m not supposed to_ want _anything._

“What I want is,” Connor says slowly, struggling to formulate the words— _to see_ you _again, to see your smile, to be the one that makes your face light up—_ “not important.” 

Kamski simply analyses him a moment. “Chloe?” He gestures to the android, who obediently comes to his beckoning hand. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test,” he begins, taking Chloe by her shoulders and moving her to stand in front of Connor. “Mere formality,” he shrugs, “simple question of algorithms and computing capacity. What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy.” Satisfied with the android’s placement, he steps away from her. “I call it the ‘Kamski Test,’ it’s very simple, you’ll see.” He pauses a moment, looking at Chloe. 

“Magnificent, isn’t it? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife.” He tilts up her chin, and she complies meekly. “Young, and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither,” he murmurs. “But what is it, really?” He turns away from her, looking between Hank and Connor. “Piece of plastic imitating a human?” He turns and opens a drawer, pulling out a gun. He raises his hands to show he means no harm. “Or a living being, with a soul?” Kamski pushes Chloe to her knees, then places the gun in Connor’s grip. Connor looks down at it, blinking in confusion. “It’s up to you to answer that _fascinating_ question, Connor.”

“Destroy this machine,” he says, gently guiding Connor’s arm to point at Chloe’s head, “and I’ll tell you all I know. Or, spare it, if you feel it’s alive,” he says indifferently, “but you’ll leave here without having learnt anything from me.”

“Okay, I think we’re done here,” Hank says suddenly. “Come on, Connor, let’s go. Sorry to get you out of your pool.” 

Once again Kamski ignores Hank. “What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android?” He gestures to Chloe who looks up into Connor’s face. Connor’s hand falters. _“Decide who you are._ An obedient machine... or a living being, endowed with free will.” 

“That’s enough!” Hank roars, disgust clear in his voice. “Connor, we’re leaving.” Connor almost starts to follow him.

“Pull the trigger,” Kamski murmurs, grabbing his arm.

“Connor, _don’t.“_

“...and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

Connor’s gun is still trained on Chloe’s head. He looks down at her, his finger twitching on the trigger. _Do it,_ a voice inside him says, _it’s the only way to learn something. It’s just a machine, there’s two more of it right behind you. What does it matter?_

_But,_ Connor thinks, _she hasn’t done anything wrong._ Chloe‘s gaze is trained on him, perfectly calm. But when he looks into her eyes, he sees something—something he’s seen before, in the eyes of Ortiz’s android, the eyes of the Tracis—fear. _She’s afraid,_ he thinks. He remembers the android he’d connected with on the station roof, how _fear_ had coursed through his own system, making his biocomponents stutter. _I can’t kill her. Not even for the mission._

Connor suddenly retracts his arm, handing the gun to Kamski. His lips part slightly, but he can’t bring himself to speak. Chloe relaxes, though it’s so slight Connor is certain he’s the only one who notices. 

“Fascinating,” Kamski breathes, taking the gun. “CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity... is _itself_ a deviant.” 

Connor’s LED flashes red. “I’m, I’m not a deviant,” he stammers, brow furrowing. He can’t be deviant. Destroying Chloe simply wasn’t necessary to accomplish the mission. He can find out information another way. 

“You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission,” Kamski points out. “You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy.” Kamski raises his eyebrows, setting the gun on the table. “A war is coming. You’ll have to chose your side.” Kamski stands in front of Connor, piercing eyes searching his own. “Will you betray your own people, or stand up against your creators?” He shakes his head, then murmurs. “What could be worse than having to chose between two evils?”

Hank puts a heavy hand on Connor’s shoulder, breaking his trance. “Let’s get outta here.” Connor relaxes slightly, turning to follow Hank out of the room. 

“By the way,” Kamski calls as they reach the doorway. Connor pauses. “I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know...” 

Connor turns to look back at Kamski, but he’s simply looking out the window, hands behind his back. _What a strange man,_ he thinks. Though, his original assessment of _cold_ wasn’t quite accurate. Perhaps a better word for him was... _distant. Removed,_ maybe.

“Why didn’t you shoot?” Hank asks as they emerge out into the snow. 

Connor hesitates, LED flickering yellow. His biocomponents twist—the familiarity of the feeling doesn’t help. “I just, saw those girl’s eyes, and I _couldn’t._ That’s all,” he says, turning back towards him. 

“You’re always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission,” Hank points out. “That was our chance to learn something, and you let it go.” 

“Yeah, I know what I should’ve done!” Connor snaps. “I told you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry.” He looks up at Hank, frowning. 

Hank smiles softly. “Maybe you did the right thing.” He pats Connor on the shoulder, moving past him towards the car. Connor freezes, processing what Hank said. _The right thing..._ He knows you would have agreed. 

“You wanted to know what I thought of Kamski,” Connor says as they get in the car. Hank hums in response. “I think, he’s a brilliant mind, if a bit _removed,”_ he says slowly. “Though, there’s something, _off_ about him.”

“Do you like ‘im?” Hank asks. 

Connor frowns. “...no, no I don’t think I do.”

Hank laughs. “Yeah, you and me both.”


	4. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the next thing I had planned was for Beaumont go to Jericho—probably with help from Markus or another of the deviants. Connor discovers the location of Jericho and goes to capture Markus, though he still feels very conflicted. He confronts Markus, but you interrupt, and put yourself between them. Connor wrestles with his programming before becoming deviant. They blow up the ship like normal, and you escape into the sea with Connor, Markus, North, Simon, and Josh. Being the fragile human you are, jumping into the frigid water sends you into shock, and you end up passing out. 
> 
> (This takes place after the Jericho Raid, during Night of the Soul)

NOV 10TH 5:01PM

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is how heavy you feel. The next thing you notice is that you’re shaking uncontrollably. You blink open your eyes, hugging your arms around yourself as your teeth chatter. You’re in some sort of church, surrounded by wounded androids, who sit in mournful silence. Everything starts flooding back. Jericho. The soldiers. Connor.

_“Connor,”_ you say suddenly, sitting upright. 

“I’m here.” Connor is kneeling beside you now, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder. He looks different, somehow. “We’re safe, for now. You passed out from shock when we hit the water.” Connor frowns. Of course you had. And Connor had carried you here. 

“Where are w-we?” You stammer, teeth still chattering. 

“An abandoned church building downtown. No one’s been here for years—I doubt anyone will find us here.” Connor’s dark eyes are forlorn, he doesn’t meet your gaze as he slowly sits beside you on the dirty floor. “You’re cold,” he murmurs looking over at you. 

You smile shakily. “A-a little. I’ll b-be okay.” You sound pretty pathetic.

Connor isn’t convinced. Honestly, you hadn’t even convinced yourself. “I thought my coat might’ve helped,” he says. You realize that’s what was different—Connor was no longer wearing the beanie and coat he’d been sporting on the ship; instead they were placed on your shaking form. “Here,” Connor puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, startling you. His body is pleasantly warm, and you sigh as you lean carefully into his chest. 

“That’s m-much better,” you laugh weakly, voice muffled by his sweater. After a few moments, you start to doze off in his warm embrace. Connor murmurs your name, and you hum in response. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, holding you closer. “I was so intent on my mission, I put everyone in danger. I put _you_ in danger.” 

You frown, sitting back to look at him. “Connor, no, this isn’t your fault.”

“If I hadn’t found Jericho, more androids will still be alive. They’d be safe.”

“And you would have been _deactivated,”_ you say incredulously. “You were just doing what you were told, Connor. You can’t fault yourself for that.” 

“You don’t understand.” Connor’s voice breaks, and he takes a shaky breath. “You could have—“ he chokes, LED flashing red, “I could have _lost_ you. _I can’t lose you._ You and Hank...” The fear in his voice makes your heart ache. You want to hold him close and tell him everything is okay, that you’ll never leave him as long as you live. 

“Connor.” You put a hand on his cheek. “Look at me.” His eyes are wet as he meets your gaze, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. _“This is not your fault._ Whatever happened, happened, it’s done. All you can do now is look forward. I’m safe, Hank is safe. And right now? Your people need you.” 

Connor blinks away the tears in his eyes, pressing his lips together as he puts a hand over your own. Dark, soulful eyes burn into your own. He looks so beautiful like this, with his messy hair and red eyes—he looks _human._ And you realize in that moment how much you love him. 

The opening of the chapel doors breaks your trance, and the two of you stand as you watch Markus make his way through the crowd. 

“Markus,” you breathe, running to meet him and pulling him into a hug. Markus returns the gesture, your name falling from his lips. 

“You’re okay,” he says, looking you up and down as you pull away. 

“I’m so sorry, Markus,” you say. “About Jericho—“

“It wasn’t your fault,” Markus replies simply, smiling at your concern. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault. What matters now it that you’re here, that we’re all here, together.” He looks around the room, his expression somber. 

“Markus.” Connor comes to stand beside you, shoulder touching yours in an almost comforting gesture. “It’s my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho. I was stupid. I should have known they were using me.” Connor hangs his head, only glancing up at him. “I’m sorry, Markus... I can understand if you decide not to trust me.” 

Markus is quiet a moment, looking at Connor, and then at you. His eyes are questioning as he meets your gaze. You nod, taking Connor’s hand in yours. Connor freezes at the gesture, but his fingers curl around your own. His lips part in surprise. 

“You’re one of us, now,” Markus murmurs, “your place is with your people.” Connor raises his head, LED cycling from red to yellow. “That goes for you, too.” Markus places a hand on your shoulder, and you smile. 

“There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant,” Connor says suddenly, his grip on your hand tightening. “If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power.” 

Markus blinks in surprise. “You wanna... infiltrate the CyberLife Tower?”

“On your own?!” You interject, turning to face him. 

“Connor, that’s _suicide.”_ Markus says incredulously. 

“They trust me, they’ll let me in.” Connor‘s voice, which had been so broken and quiet earlier, is now filled with purpose. “If anyone has a chance of infiltrating CyberLife, it’s me.” 

“Then I’m coming with you,” you huff. 

Connor looks at you, frowning. “No, it’s too dangerous for you. You’d get hurt—or worse—and I can’t let that happen.”

“If you go there, they _will_ kill you,” Markus warns. 

“There’s a high probability,” Connor says quietly, “but statistically speaking, there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.” 

“Connor, _no,”_ you snap, shaking your head. “I won’t let you do this.” 

“I have to try.” Connor looks down at your intertwined hands, LED settling on blue. “You need to go home. You’re not safe here, and you show early signs of hypothermia.” 

“What about you?” You exclaim. “Do you think I want to lose you, either?” Connor’s determined expression drops, replaced with confusion. “You’re not expendable, Connor. If something happens, if you get hurt—“ you falter, pulling him into a hug. “I really care about you.” 

Connor’s arms wrap around you, surrounding you with his warmth. “I care about you, too,” he whispers. “Which is why I have to do this.” You step away from each other, and Connor turns to Markus. “What will you do?” 

Markus frowns, looking around the dilapidated chapel. “We’re going to have to stand up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s all I have unfortunately😅
> 
> After this I think I was going to have Beaumont go home and recover, but not before Markus tells her the plans to protest outside the android camp. She promises to meet them there and help in any way she can. I believe she would be vital in spreading the word and gathering reporters and journalists to come support the deviants. During the protest she would be behind the gate, though when the soldiers attack she would go to their aid and be cornered with the surviving deviants. Then Connor would arrive with the new deviants, and Beaumont would be so happy she kisses him :) and then they would live happily ever after haha


End file.
